Tracks in the Waves
by Shiseki-Kimagura
Summary: Gaang Jr. - Insight towards what they're Pangolin-Otter thinks. Check my profile for info.


The waves wash over him as he travels across the seas, his heart beating in sync with each stroke that powers him along the waves. It would be simple to just keep swimming like this forever, but then there will always be destinations for him to reach. However, it does not mean that he cannot enjoy the journey towards wherever he's supposed to go.

Sometimes it seems short, as when his charges come across a chain of islands. He feels as though he's out for a stroll for a short time and before he knows it, they have arrived at the next port to stop in. When this happens, he can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. At least he's fed properly during such times.

In other moments however, the journey seems to stretch on forever. It can be a bit unforgiving, like when they are traveling in the middle of the ocean with the bright sun beating down on him and, heating his body up and blinding him with the harsh glare. At least he can dunk his head underwater, cooling himself and sating his thirst, though he's careful to regulate what he drinks. His digestive system can handle the sea water, but it pays to be safe.

During the times he travels across the water, he listens to the ever present voices of the ocean, its overlapping waves sounds as close to words as he can imagine for himself. In other days, especially when they are nearing land, he can hear the faint music of birds and other Pangolin-otters, if he's lucky. His constant sources of sound, however, are the children aboard the ship. They chatter needlessly for hours, sometimes using loud voices, accompanied by gales of laugher, or sometimes they mumble in reverent tones, as if they are imparting their inner emotions to the waves. Sometimes one of them will approach him and start speaking in a language he cannot understand, though he sympathizes with them all the same. Their low solemn voices are enough for him to tell him that they need reassurance and support, which he gives gladly. When this occurs, he is overjoyed and his heart warms to them. Their happiness is his happiness, and his decision to be loyal to them is validated every time.

He looks behind him as he can feel the weight of the ship as he pulls it along, though he really doesn't mind it much. It is his only contribution to this adventure of theirs, and their transport is interesting to look at. A mix of different influences and colors, much like their occupants. He focuses attention more to the maidenhead statue that looks similar to one of the children's older relatives he saw once. It gazes onwards, still and proud. It is as if it has a life of its own and daring the world to harm the children aboard, to feel it furious wrath that nothing in this realm is prepared to handle if and when something does happen. Even he can feel it in him.

Oftentimes, when the children leave the safety of the ship, he begins to act restless. And when they return in worse condition, his heart sinks to his stomach. Bruises, cuts, burns, torn clothing, or all of the above can be found on them most of the time. He worries and fusses over them when they return in such a state. He remembers his own youthful indiscretion and the troubles he caused back then, and how he wish he could show them what his parents did to get him to stay out of harm's way. Alas, they are of different species and the best he can do is to watch them travel on their merry way, hoping they come back in piece, at least.

He looks back on those times, the times they return from their little excursions. His charges seem to be changing with each passing day. He can still remember the day he met them all for the first time. Much has changed since then and he can see, and feel, the maturity they exude. Especially his favorite charge; the young girl in glasses, who used to shrink from attention and converse with him in a small, squeaky, shy language, who now stands stronger, more confident in who she is and what she's capable of. He's content to watch as she grows without his help, though he wishes dearly that she not forget to talk to him and keep him in her life. The day she chooses a mate and rear a child of her own will be the day he can rest easy, knowing he's done something good with his life. He wishes the same for all of them. Until then, he can only swim through the waves, listen to their voices when they confide in him, to comfort them in return, to carry their ship to its destination, no matter how near or far, to watch them make mistakes, to hope they treat it as a lesson, to help them grow, and to wish them a brighter future.


End file.
